


Alliance/Mutiny

by Chaostructure



Category: Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Uprising
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7113958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaostructure/pseuds/Chaostructure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dyson is starting to realize that he and Tron have a conflict in directives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alliance/Mutiny

Dyson had the intense feeling that he was being watched.

Programs stared as he walked down the street on his way back to headquarters. Those who tried to hide it did so poorly - he was well aware of their quick glances, their horror and revulsion at the gaping wound that tore through the right side of his face. Sometimes they looked at him with pity; other times, it was more apprehension… _Who else will be mutilated by the ISOs? Which of us will be next?_

This was a question that the security officer thought was entirely reasonable.

His expression remained stoic, focused straight ahead until he reached the double doors at the front of the building and made his way inside. The lobby was empty, save for the four sentries who were always there monitoring the feeds from surveillance cameras around the city. They didn’t look up as Dyson got into the elevator and headed up to his office.

He was greeted by an unusual yellow light reflected in the floor upon entering his access code and pushing the door open. “You’re late,” a voice called from the far side of the room. 

“And you’re in my locked office, CLU. What are you doing?”

_Add to my list of things to do,_ the security program thought with a frown, _come up with a lock that can’t be overridden by an admin code._

“Ah, just… looking through your agenda here.” CLU shuffled some notes and rough schematics on Dyson’s desk, lining them up so that they were neatly parallel to the edge of the surface. “We’ll get to that in a nano. I understand that you’ve been pushing to have the ISOs quarantined.”

Dyson leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, trying to keep his patience as he exhaled slowly. “It is my duty to protect the Grid,” he said, unable to keep the edge of annoyance out of his voice. He was tired of explaining this over and over - to Tron, to civilians, even to some of the soldiers under his command. “Flynn, like many Users, may have the best of intentions, but he has proven incapable of recognizing a threat to the system. You’ve seen the destruction, the havoc that the ISOs have caused…”

CLU held his hands up in front of him. “I’m not here to argue with you,” the administrator insisted. “I’m here because I agree with you. My question is, what are you going to _do_ about it?”

Dyson raised his eyebrows. That was unexpected - usually CLU agreed with whatever Flynn wanted to do, and that meant allocating more resources and energy to the ISOs to build their cities and whatever else they did; resources and energy that had to be taken away from the rightful and hard-working citizens of the Grid. 

“Ah… well, there’s unfortunately not much I _can_ do for now,” he said. “I have constant patrols organized to protect civilians from harm, and I will be arranging another conference with Tron as soon as possible to continue to bring the magnitude of this situation to his attention…”

“We both know that’s not going to work,” answered CLU.

For a moment neither program said anything, both looking at each other in silent acknowledgement. Finally the administrator spoke: 

“How many of your soldiers agree that the ISO situation calls for more… drastic measures to be taken?”

The corners of Dyson’s mouth turned down in an ugly grimace. “It’s about split down the middle right now,” he grumbled. “Those who think the ISOs are a threat, those who think they have every right that programs do… Sometimes it’s all I can do to keep my own troops from fighting each other.”

CLU tilted his head. “So there are others who would help restore peace to the Grid… Even if it meant going against Flynn’s wishes and Tron’s orders?”

The officer took a moment to think of an appropriate response. “A good security program understands that the User doesn’t always know what’s in the best interest of the system,” he said. “It’s our job to step in and protect the Grid and the User alike. _Tron_ is more the issue. He’s… different… He follows directives unconventional to most security programs.”

“All right.” CLU nodded once to show his understanding of the other program’s answer. After a brief pause, he looked down to the documents on Dyson’s desk. “Why don’t you tell me about this? It looks like quite the project.”

Dyson gave the administrator a look of indignation as he opened his mouth to reply. CLU had no business being in his office, going through confidential files, but he decided he would casually ask questions about them as if it concerned him? However, the security program managed to hold his tongue. If CLU was serious about his agreement on the ISO situation, it could be helpful to stay on his good side. 

“It’s a device to assign a new function to a damaged or obsolete program,” he explained. “Flynn wants to bring some programs over from a fragmented hard drive, give them a new life on the Grid… Unfortunately, in their current state they wouldn’t have enough compatibility with our system to serve any useful purpose.”

“I see,” CLU answered, turning away slightly to get a better look at the schematics. “‘Rectifier’… I like that.”

“I appreciate your interest, sir. However, it’s nearing the end of the micro, and I need to organize patrols for the start of the next cycle…” Dyson chose his words carefully, keeping his voice level and polite as he spoke.

“Of course. Can’t let the ISOs cause any more damage.” CLU shifted position and straightened his back, taking one more quick glance at the schematics before he turned to leave. “This is very, very interesting…”

With that, the administrator headed for the door. 

As he walked past Dyson, he paused. “Let me know when you decide you’re ready to go to _any measures_ to stop their destructive ways,” he said in a low voice, barely above a whisper. “I think that device of yours might prove useful for our purposes… Get Tron and his archaic programming out of the way…” 

“You have a good rest of the cycle,” CLU said, resuming his normal voice. He stepped outside and the door closed and locked with a click.

* * *

Dyson addressed the chief of security at the end of their conference before patrols were to start. “What is your primary directive?”

“I fight for the users,” said the revered program.

“I see,” Dyson answered. “Mine is to protect the Grid and its citizens from any and all threats. I want you to understand that, Tron.”

Patrols started, and Dyson headed to the center of the city, looking for CLU.


End file.
